There is no friend so faithful as insomnia. Insomnia will stay up with you in the wee small hours, quietly counseling you that all is not well with the world, warning you of all the dangers and perils in the days to come, and reminding you of all the embarrassing and clumsy words you spoke in the days gone by. Insomnia never lets you down, whenever you really need a good night's sleep, the day before an important interview for example, insomnia will be there for you.
So last night, insomnia and I explored together the injustice of a particularly annoying dispute I have with a certain bureaucracy, helped me to consider a whole range of problems that I might experience with my new job, and even opened up to me whole avenue of insoluble worry: worrying about insomnia itself.
Fortunately, today, I have no work to go to, and no urgent studying to perform. I have a "To Do" list as long as, well, as long as my middle finger -- but the writing's quite small, honest. One of the most venerable items on said list is "file away papers". Now I have to admit -- and this may be strange coming from a librarian, that I don't do filing. Throughout my career, I've generally applied a variation of a slash and burn method. Every time the pile gets over about four foot, I change job. Then I either pile it all into a bin bag and take it home on the last day or, shamefully, leave it as a welcome gift to my successor.
I'm looking now at the mountain of papers from my philosophy course (lecture notes, handouts, academic papers). I go and measure it -- about 37cm all told. Hmmm. I wonder if I could transfer to doing Cultural Studies.
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